


In The Winter

by ElleLouMay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is a top, Castiel is an odd jobs man, Dean is a writer, Dean is emotional, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel in England, Ellen rocks, English Countryside, F/M, Gabriel is hilarious, Got the inspiration by the recent snow I had in my own village, I don't really know what this is?, I wish Castiel had delivered food to my bungalow, Insecure Castiel, Insecure Dean, John is an A+ parent, Lots of drama, M/M, Only a little smut really, Past Violence, Sam being a good little brother, Sexy Times, Smut, Snow, Some kinda fluffy stuff, This Isn't My Best Work, What am I doing with my life?, Winter Destiel, Winter fic, dean is a bottom, no real plot, nudge nudge, painful, past deaths, past trauma, short fic, wink wink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 18:18:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElleLouMay/pseuds/ElleLouMay
Summary: Fat flakes of snow fell quickly and settled where they landed, blanketing the ground in a thick layer of white that seemed to gleam and glitter with whatever light pushed through from behind the clouds that were still pregnant with snow. For early December in the British countryside this was not strictly unusual, it was just unsettling – the snow had trapped Dean Winchester inside the small cottage he had rented for the duration of the Christmas months and if there was anything Dean hated it was the thought of being ‘stuck’ and ‘helpless’.





	In The Winter

Fat flakes of snow fell quickly and settled where they landed, blanketing the ground in a thick layer of white that seemed to gleam and glitter with whatever light pushed through from behind the clouds that were still pregnant with snow. For early December in the British countryside this was not strictly unusual, it was just unsettling – the snow had trapped Dean Winchester inside the small cottage he had rented for the duration of the Christmas months and if there was anything Dean hated it was the thought of being ‘stuck’ and ‘helpless’.  
He felt almost betrayed by the weather, it had put a very final stopper to his plans of venturing out to fetch supplies and groceries and now he would have to try and survive on the rapidly dwindling items he had stored in the cupboards and the small pantry. With a flare of rage, he tore open the pantry door and looked at the depressingly empty shelves – there were a few packets of cheap ramen, some packs of shell pasta, a single can of chicken soup, two small cans of corn and some spam. He could probably make something from that seeing as he had to eat but he didn’t want to make do and eat what he could scrounge together. The years in which he’d had to do that for him and Sammy had long since passed and Dean had taken to indulging his love of food in the recent years being more than able to afford whatever he craved – which was usually still pie, the pie had just become slightly better.

Picking up his mobile he dialled his brother’s number, hoping he wasn’t interrupting anything important. Sam answered with a grumble, “Dean, what’s wrong? You know it’s 1AM in Palo Alto right?”

Dean looks at his watch and feels like a shitty person, “Did I wake you?”

He hears Sam huff out a breath and the sound of some papers being shifted around, “No, I was studying. Tell me what’s wrong.”

It feels stupid to complain about the lack of food now that he actually has Sammy on the phone, “It’s nothing, I’ll call you back later on.”

“No you won’t, Dean. You’ll talk to me now.” He can tell his brother is pulling one of his bitch faces.

With a frustrated sigh he waves the arm that isn’t holding his phone against his ear up in a gesture of annoyance – forgetting that Sammy can’t see him, “It’s snowing.”

There’s a beat of silence, “And?”

“And I’m running out of food, I don’t wanna get stuck here and end up having to eat my own leg Sammy.” He knows he’s being dramatic because it wouldn’t be the first time he went without food and he knows he could definitely do it for at least four days without getting desperate enough to resort to autosarcophagy.

He can practically see his brother pulling another bitch face and probably rolling his eyes, but he keeps most of his frustration out of his tone when he finally answers, “You could call a cab to take you shopping, I’m sure the snow isn’t that bad.”

Dean peers out and can see no area that isn’t free of a thick, white, cover, “Everything is covered in about ten inches of snow, Sammy.”

There’s silence again as his brother thinks, finally he seems to perk up as though he’s the genius that discovered the wheel, “You could hire someone to fetch the stuff for you – locals will be used to going about their lives as normal and who knows you might kill two birds with one stone and actually make a friend.”

“I have friends.” 

Sammy chuckles, “Jo, Bobby, Ellen, Ash, Garth, Pam, Charlie and the check-out guy at Wallmart don’t count.”

Well, no friends then, “Fine I’ll sort it out, thanks for your help…bitch.”

Sammy laughs again, “Jerk.” 

Then there is silence once more as Dean sets his phone back down next to his open laptop. He sits and rubs his hands over his face before minimizing his writing and opening up firefox to try and find something resembling the service his brother had suggested. It wouldn’t be so bad – for one he wouldn’t have to try and force his way through the snow and search desperately for the nearest shop. 

Finally after several pages he comes across a webpage that is local to the area promising that there service is quick and efficient. There’s a number and an email address so once again Dean picks up his phone and dials.

***

It’s noon before there’s a knock at the door, Dean had been hammering away at the keys of his laptop with his playlist of rock blaring through the small living area. Rising to his feet he makes his way to the door and opens it wide – on the doorstep bundled up in a trench coat that is slightly too big and what looks to at least three woollen jumpers, a garish, mustard hat with pom poms attached to strings that hang down from flaps that are obviously meant to keep the man’s ears warm and one singular one nestled atop the monstrosity of a hat, a maroon scarf with bees sewn onto it and mittens stands a man slightly shorter than Dean. Despite how wrapped up the man is he’s still visibly affected by the cold, winter, air and the bags he holds are covered in the remnants of the snow that’s still falling from above.

Just as Dean is about to move aside to let this man in he’s met with a pair of vividly blue eyes and the deep, gravelly, tone of his voice, “Hello, Mr.Winchester.”

The sound of static blares from inside Dean’s skull as he stares at the stranger, his mouth is dry and despite the chill his palms are sweating. Somehow he manages to remember himself and force his mouth to close before he stiffly nods and gestures for the man to step inside. He watches as a small smile curls the corners of full, pink, lips and tries to say a silent plea to whoever will listen for help – though he’s not exactly sure what kind of help he needs to begin with.

Heavy snow boots trail a line of wet footsteps into the entry and blue eyes take in the room with apparent delight. Somehow Dean finds his voice, “Please, call me Dean.”

“Of course, where would you like me to put away the items?” 

“Uhm…j-just in the pantry…please.” Dean mentally chastises himself for being so affected by this man, he feels like a stammering virgin about to get laid for the first time.

The man says nothing and Dean realises a beat too late that he’s waiting to be directed to the pantry – his legs feel like rubber as he leads him there, opening the door and staring at the floor so he doesn’t get caught up in that intense stare once again. The man enters the small room and begins unloading the items Dean requested – he’s removed his ridiculous mittens and Dean watches the strong and nimble fingers of two calloused hands as he stacks cans on the shelves. He could turn and just leave the man to his job but he’s glued to his spot in the doorway – it feels like there’s no air.

“Do you have any preference for where I place the perishables?”

The words replay in his mind several times before Dean can make sense of them, when he registers them he wants to kick himself for taking so long, “Uhm, no.” You’re pathetic, Winchester.  
He’s met with that same intense stare, it’s as though he’s looking through Dean and seeing his very soul, “Do you want me to put the eggs in the fridge?”

He could throw them on the floor and Dean wouldn’t mind, his eyes flicker to the man’s lips subconsciously and he feels a blush tingling across his cheeks, “I don’t mind.” 

Finally he’s able to pry his gaze away from those plump lips – but not before he’s stricken with an almost impossible urge to close the distance between them and devour the stranger.  
The man nods and finishes stacking the shelves, “Could you show me where your fridge is, please?”

Yeah, fridge. His mind is slow on the uptake, lagging like he’s got a bad internet connection, “Sure,” He wonders if this man is used to people being rendered dumb by his good looks, “It’s this way.”

Dean leads him to the old fashioned (or as Dean calls it ‘retro’) fridge and watches as the same hands stack eggs, milk, ketchup, mayonnaise, ham, cheese, tomatoes, lettuce and other items that would probably disintegrate inside the pantry. For a while all Dean can do is stand, rooted to the spot, watching and observing the man – unable to tear his eyes away. Unfortunately he doesn’t notice when the task is done and only becomes aware when the stranger clears his throat. Dean looks up from where his eyes had been lingering on the firm legs of the man and is met with an amused smile and blue eyes that are dancing with something akin to delight, “My name is Castiel, it seems proper that you know my name seeing as I know yours.”

“That’s a very strange name.” 

Castiel shrugs with that same smile playing around his lips, “My Mother was obsessed with angels and I was born on a Thursday so she named me after the angel of Thursday.”

Of course she did, Dean had never believed in angels but with one stood in his kitchen he was incapable of denying their existence, “Hmm, it suits you.” 

A tinge of pink crawled over Castiel’s cheeks, causing Dean’s heart to beat a frantic rhythm against his ribcage, he watched as Castiel stepped closer – moving as though he were in slow motion, “Thank you.” His voice was lower and it made a ball of heat tighten in Dean’s abdomen.

Smiling Dean tried to come up with a way he could prolong Castiel’s stay now that he was done with putting away the groceries…and it seems his prayer was answered when they made their way back to the front door only to be greeted with a block of snow that was as tall as the door itself – some of it spilled out into the entry.  
“Oh,” Castiel’s eyes were wide, “I might be able to dig my way out…”

Dean was almost vibrating with joy at the prospect of being stuck inside with an angel and though he had hated the prospect of being stuck here only a few hours ago it was now the most pleasing thing that had ever happened to him, he found himself placing his hand on Castiel’s shoulder making the man jump slightly – when Dean spoke his voice was lower, “Or you could stay.”

Castiel turned and met Dean’s gaze, something hot and heavy swimming just behind his eyes, “If you’re sure.” He was almost whispering.

Dean found himself whispering too now, “Surer than I’ve ever been before.”

***

Turns out Castiel was not just a pretty face, he was intelligent and funny – before long he had Dean laughing madly while they sipped hot cocoa in front of the roaring fire. Dean had long abandoned his work, settling in one of the very comfortable armchairs with Castiel sat opposite him in the other while he listened to stories about Castiel’s brother Gabriel who had a love of pranks as well as a lack of a filter when it came to other people. In turn Dean told Castiel all about his incredibly intelligent brother Sammy and how they’d grown up at The Roadhouse where they’d snuck down in the middle of the night to steal shots of whiskey with their friend Ash and Jo who were as good as siblings to Sam and Dean.  
“And Ellen caught Sammy with a bottle of vodka in one hand and half a carton of Marlboro in the other, boy did she tan our hides that night…we were grounded for two months and Sammy was banned from reading.”

Castiel laughed loudly, “Sounds like you all got along very well,” He grinned, “I wish I’d had that growing up.”

Dean raised his brows, “You didn’t have a good childhood?”

“I wouldn’t say that…my Mother was just very strict and Gabriel was the only one that seemed to be able to get away with bending the rules,” He paused thoughtfully, “Though that might have been because he was very close to our Father and he always defended Gabe.”

“Weren’t you close to him?” Dean felt bad for prying but he wanted to know everything he could about Castiel while he had the chance.

“Of course I was close to him but I favoured my Mother in most ways and being the youngest I think she saw it as her last chance to be able to mould one of her children the way she wanted – I was always encouraged to put my academics above all else and I didn’t dare express my distaste for all the lessons she made me take outside of school,” He frowned, “After I finished college I finally decided I’d had enough and defied her on something…something pretty big in fact, after that she disowned me and I caught a plane from New York and settled here for some peace as well as freedom.”

Dean was speechless, though he hadn’t had the best start (far from it) he was stunned to discover that Castiel had endured so much pressure from his Mother and then when he’d decided he wanted to be his own man she’d disowned him – he couldn’t imagine how that felt. He regained his voice, “That’s really shitty, Cas,” He contemplated going over to comfort him but he doubted that would go over right, “Are you happy now, though…I mean, now that you’re here and living life as your own man?”

Castiel beamed at him, the smile breaking over his face and showing his gums along with his very white teeth – he was truly beautiful, “Yes, I am more than happy. I have real friends for the first time in my life, I love my jobs, I love my tiny little bungalow.”

The smile was contagious and Dean found his lips turning up as well, “That’s great.” 

“What about you?” Castiel leant forward and placed his mug on the small coffee table having finished his cocoa.

“What about me?” 

Castiel made no move to sit back once again and now that they were closer Dean could see the same shimmer of heat and intensity in those too-blue eyes, “Are you happy, Dean?”

“Yes.” Dean’s voice was far too breathy and quiet, his eyes flickering between those plump lips and then back up to Castiel’s eyes seemingly of their own accord.

It seemed Castiel was somehow moving even closer without ever leaving his seat, “What makes you happiest?”

Dean was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, “Right now?”

Castiel nodded, his voice a low purr, “Yes, right now.”

“This moment…meeting you…being trapped in this cottage with you.” Dean had no filter now, he would be ashamed of himself – of speaking so freely and admitting what he’d been thinking but the only thing he felt was that ball of heat tightening inside him and his own heart racing.

And then Castiel was standing, stealing the mug from Dean’s hands and pushing him back in his seat before straddling his lap and bringing their lips together with a hunger that swelled until it filled a hole Dean hadn’t known he’d had. The kiss was full of burning passion and as Dean’s lips parted Castiel swept his tongue past them and plundered his mouth with desperation – Dean tangled his own tongue with Castiel’s and felt as though he was leaving his body. Watching the scene from above as the nimble fingers he’d watched earlier slid beneath the thin, cotton, of his favourite AC/DC shirt.

He shuddered as the calloused skin of Castiel’s fingers moved ever higher before finding purchase at his nipples, Castiel tweaked one between his thumb and forefinger while his free thumb swirled around the other. Dean whined into his mouth and bucked his hips up causing their crotches to collide through their jeans, he could feel Castiel’s hard length and that only spurred him on along with the hiss that escaped him. Dean pulled the button of Castiel’s jeans free and slid the zipper down before sliding his hand beneath the waistband of Castiel’s boxers and closing his fingers around his sizeable cock.  
And God was he big, Dean’s hand could hardly close around Castiel’s girth and the length meant that Dean needed to readjust his angle to free up his arm further to even be able to slide his fisted hand along the entirety of his shaft. Dean could only imagine how that cock would feel stretching him out and the thought made him almost cry out with need.  
Castiel’s lips slid from Dean’s down his jaw and settled on his neck where he let out hot little pants of breath in between the kisses and licks that he lavished on the sensitive skin above Dean’s pulse point. Dean’s head was swimming as he continued to stroke the thick cock that Castiel was now thrusting into his hand – he smeared the precum that had beaded at the slit across the head and was happy when it coaxed another hiss out of Castiel.  
“Fuck, Dean.”

Dean chuckled and slid his free hand down the back of Castiel’s jeans to cup his firm ass, “Later, I promise.”

Evidently that was the right thing to say – Castiel growled before biting down harshly into the flesh of Dean’s throat and made short work of tearing off the plaid shirt Dean was wearing. And fuck that was damn hot – the way he growled and the way he thrust his cock harder into Dean’s hand, the tip of it jabbing into Dean’s own stomach. He needed Castiel to fuck him, he needed it now.  
But with that need came a spike of fear, he hadn’t been with a man since Benny and though that had been amazing he hadn’t been nearly as big or wide as Castiel was…Dean was scared and it was quickly overriding his desire.

“Dean, do you need to stop?” Castiel’s tone said he knew almost exactly what was tormenting Dean.

He wanted Castiel, he wanted him to cum…he wanted everything. Dean’s voice was shockingly small when he answered, “You’re just so big.”

Castiel pulled back and looked Dean in the eye, pinning him with those blue eyes and punching the air out of his lungs, “We don’t need to go any further than you’re willing, you don’t need to do anything that will make you uncomfortable. I want you to feel as good as I do and I want to be the one that makes you feel that way. I want to fuck you but that doesn’t mean that we have to do that.”

Dean let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and his shoulders relaxed, “I want that too, it’s just been a while.”

“It has for me too,” Castiel’s gaze conveyed the truth behind his previous words and he stroked a hand softly down Dean’s neck, “I won’t hurt you, Dean. I want you to be willing and ready for whatever we do tonight and if you only want it to go as far as jerking each other off that’s all we’ll do.”

But Dean didn’t want that, he wanted so much more and the fire in his groin told him all that he needed to hear. He just needed a little while before the main event, needed to loosen up properly – just as that thought struck him he felt Castiel’s hands cupping his ass, pulling him closer and holding him.  
“I want you to fuck me, Cas.”

Dean led Castiel up the stairs and to the bedroom and stood at the foot of the bed, Castiel closed the distance and sealed their lips together once again. His tongue drawing quiet sighs and whimpers from Dean as his hands tugged the hem of his shirt until they had to break apart to pull it over Dean’s head – Castiel stood back from Dean and his eyes trailed across the expanse of Dean’s chest and down to the hair beneath his navel that led beneath the waistband of his jeans.

He grinned before he whispered, “Beautiful.” And just that one word was enough to make the tight heat within Dean swell even more until it felt like he might burst with it.  
Castiel unbuttoned Dean’s jeans next and waited for Dean to step out of them once he’d slowly slid them down his thighs and calves – again Castiel let his gaze roam the newly exposed flesh and Dean struggled to stop from trembling beneath such a piercing gaze. When Castiel spoke again Dean was ready for how the word would make him feel, though that didn’t prevent him having the exact same reaction as before, “Beautiful.” Castiel hummed.

When Dean was free of his boxers he felt very aware of the fact that despite Castiel’s jeans being open he was still dressed in several woollen jumpers along with his jeans, boxers and socks. He stepped forward, his hands shaking only marginally, with the intention of undressing Castiel as he, himself, had been undressed but Castiel shook his head – obviously interpreting what Dean intended to do. Instead he backed Dean up until the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed frame and then gripped Dean’s hips as he lifted him easily up and on to the bed, “This is the part where I worship your body, Dean.” 

That would have been creepy if anyone else had said it but Castiel’s deep purr and the conviction behind his words kept it from being creepy – Dean laid back against the plush bedding and tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart.  
Castiel stroked his hands along Dean’s thighs, purposefully ignoring the place where Dean sought them most, his fingers were gentle as though Dean might break under them, “You’re absolutely perfect, Dean. I’ve never seen someone so beautiful in all my life and I feel honoured to be the one to see you like this, to be able to touch you like this,” His long fingers tickled along Dean’s ribs, “To be able to hear the sounds you make,” He took one of Dean’s nipples between his thumb and forefinger again and pinched it slightly causing Dean to moan softly, “To be gifted with such a wonderful man.”

Dean was blushing, he’d never been complimented like this – not even by Lisa and he’d actually lived with her for a couple of years before he’d come to England. The way Castiel spoke with such utter truth in his words made Dean tingle from the top of his head all the way down to his toes. He couldn’t find his voice to answer and even if he could he didn’t trust it not to betray his emotions.  
It didn’t seem to matter though, Castiel hadn’t expected a response to his appreciation of Dean’s body and his fingers carried on saying what he felt about Dean – he moved from caressing Dean’s chest to his throat, fingers nimble and touches full of something far too deep for someone he’d just met. From there he moved his caresses down once again before finally trailing his forefinger along the length of Dean’s cock. It was enough to make Dean’s entire body tremble and his skin tingled further when Castiel slid down the bed and licked a strip from his base to the head.  
“Is this okay, Dean?”

Dean nodded rapidly and Castiel smiled before enclosing Dean’s cock in the warmth of his mouth, plump lips sealing around him tightly and his long tongue twirling around the entirety of him as he swallowed him whole. He struggled not to thrust into Castiel’s mouth to chase the sensation that was quite literally making him wild – Castiel seemed to understand as he locked eyes with him, a million different thoughts and feelings flowed between them and Castiel seemed to read them all happily giving Dean what he so desperately craved.  
Castiel pulled up until Dean’s cock was almost free from his mouth only to plunge back down, gulping against Dean’s shaft causing the tightness of his throat to magnify in its intensity and drawing a wrecked sob to burst free from Dean’s mouth. This was quite easily the best blow job Dean had ever received, it was as though Castiel knew him already – knew what made him squirm, what made him curse and what would send him soaring over the edge into his climax. And what was more Castiel seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the way Dean tasted and felt, he was moaning earnestly and picking up an ever faster speed – the blow job becoming sloppy with spit as he swallowed Dean all the way down his throat time and time again.

He gripped Dean’s thigh like a vice seemingly aware that Dean was about to cum and signalling wordlessly that he would swallow whatever Dean had to give, their eyes met and Dean felt that crushing heat explode through his groin only to be consumed by the mouth that was still wrapped snugly around him. He couldn’t hold back when he moaned Castiel’s name loud enough to be heard three villages over and he couldn’t fight to stay conscious when darkness found him – he passed out, sated and buzzing with the pulses of his climax.

When Dean came too Castiel was laid beside him, on his side so that they were facing one another, stroking his fingers through Dean’s short hair with reverence, “Hello, Dean.” He hummed, his eyes filled with an emotion Dean didn’t dare name.  
“Hi, Cas.” Dean’s voice cracked, clearly the moaning and screaming had taken its toll.

Castiel merely smiled back at him, his eyes twinkling, “I like when you call me that.”

Dean’s brows furrowed as he tried to catch up in the wake of his mind-blowing orgasm, “What, Cas? Your name is a bit of a mouthful…”

He was met with a rather predatory smirk, “Oh, is it now?”

It was then that Dean realised that despite gaining his own release Castiel had not received that same luxury because Dean had selfishly let himself be lavished in attention, not bothering to please Castiel simultaneously like he should have.  
“Dean, you’re thinking too much,” Castiel smoothed the lines that had creased between Dean’s brows, “You know I won’t demand anything of you nor do I expect anything, pleasing you is enough for me.”

But there was no way in hell Dean was going to pass up the chance to satisfy this angel now that he’d remembered, he wanted to hear how Castiel would sound when he came – wanted to see what kind of face he would make when that pleasure finally crested, “No, I want to return the favour.”

Castiel quirked an eyebrow, his eyes seeming to glow a spectacular shade of blue, “Then be my guest, Dean.”

Sliding down the bed he made quick work of removing Castiel’s jeans and boxers while Castiel pulled off the many jumpers he was wearing – now that he was nude Dean looked him over from his position at his hip, he truly was magnificent; all toned, tanned, skin with legs that looked like they belonged to a runner. His cock was a whole other matter indeed, it was so long it was almost comical and the girth of it was thicker than Dean’s own wrist. The head was fat and red with pearly beads of precum glistening at the very tip. It was intimidating but it also made a flash of excitement race through him, he wondered how much of it he would be able to fit into his mouth…into his ass.

Dean shuddered lightly as he closed his fingers around Castiel’s cock once more, spitting a little on the shaft to lubricate his movements as he stroked from base to tip over and over. Above him Castiel had propped himself up on to his elbows to watch and his eyes were lidded, pupils blown wide with lust so that barely a hint of the blue remained. Slowly Dean licked at the slit, lapping up the precum and revelling in the saltiness of it before mouthing around the head.

“Dean-“ Whatever Castiel had wanted to say was drowned out by the loud moan he let slip afterwards.

Dean let his mouth fall from his cock with a pop, keeping his hand wrapped around the shaft as he feigned innocence, “Yes, Cas?”

Castiel’s gaze was fierce, looking for all the world as though he could truly smite Dean if he wished, “I want to taste you.”

A thrill shot along Dean’s spine as he guessed what that might mean though he had no chance to ask before Castiel had hauled him up, manhandling him until his crotch was in Castiel’s face and vice versa with Dean on top. There was no time for even the slightest protest (not that Dean wanted to protest) before Castiel’s tongue was sliding along Dean’s perineum, teasing and languid in his exploration of that very sensitive area. One of Castiel’s hands stroked over Dean’s ass as his tongue finally found his puckered hole – Dean let out a stream of expletives as that skilled tongue swirled around his rim a few times before plunging inside the tight, ring of muscle.

Dean in turn sank down on Castiel’s cock, swallowing as much as he possibly could though it made him gag until his eyes were watering – Castiel was relentless though, seeming to want Dean to cum again, Dean’s cock twitched to life yet again as though it was eager to encourage Castiel’s actions further. If Castiel noticed this he made no means to stimulate it, wholly invested in his mission to thoroughly fuck Dean with his tongue alone.  
It wasn’t long before Dean could feel the muscles of Castiel’s abdomen and thighs jumping – he was getting close and the thought of finally being able to taste his cum was making him all the more eager to get that end result. Just as he thought Castiel was about to lose it he felt one of those long fingers sliding past his entrance alongside Castiel’s tongue. Dean almost shrieked as Castiel zeroed in on his prostate and Castiel’s cock flopped free from his mouth.

“F-fuck, Cas.” His mind was a whirlwind of a thousand different emotions all at once as well as the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling.

Castiel moaned into his hole as he continued to pump his tongue and finger in and out, hitting that sweet spot time and time again which caused white spots of light to burst into existence in front of Dean’s eyes. He made an active effort to try and get Castiel’s cock back into his mouth so he could finish him off but ended up just slumping forwards pathetically – Castiel didn’t seem to mind, quite the opposite judging by his continued moaning and the joy he seemed to be taking in ravishing Dean’s hole.

A second finger joined the first and Dean had to fight tooth and nail to keep himself somewhat lucid while his body was shaking and trembling with ecstasy. Castiel pulled his face back and Dean felt his hot breaths coming out in bursts as he spoke along with the rumble of his words where his stomach met Castiel’s chest, “Dean, I want…” 

Dean’s eyes were all but rolling into his head, his voice came out breathy and shaky, he knew exactly what Castiel wanted and God he wanted it so bad, “I want that too.”

Once again Castiel manhandled Dean into position, laying him at the head of the bed on his back and looming over him – his cheeks were red and his hair was plastered to his forehead, “Do you have lube and condoms?”

Dean nodded, “In the nightstand,” He watched Castiel bend towards it and rummage among the items in the top drawer, “Hurry, please.” Dean had never been one for begging when it came to anything really but he’d never needed something as badly as he did now.

Castiel poured a liberal amount of lube out on to his fingers and guided two of them back inside Dean – this time he avoided Dean’s prostate, it was all about preparation and Dean knew that he needed to be wide enough to take what Castiel gave if this was going to be as enjoyable as everything else had been so far. Slowly Castiel added a third finger and then a fourth, scissoring them out. The stretch burned a little but it was more pleasure than pain.

Castiel removed his fingers and slid one of the condoms on before applying even more lube and coming to hover above Dean once again, “Are you sure?”

“Surer than I’ve ever been.” Yeah, it would more than likely hurt but he was as ready as he’d ever be by now and certain he could take it.

The head of Castiel’s thick cock was guided into position at Dean’s entrance and Castiel teased at the hole with it, watching as Dean bit his lip and moaned, “Please, Cas.”

That was all Castiel needed to hear, he slowly nudged the tip of his cock past the ring of muscle – looking down and watching as Dean’s hole opened ever wider for him, “You’re so tight, so beautiful and warm.” The way he spoke was euphoric and Dean found himself wondering if he could cum just by listening to Castiel speak.

As inch by inch was pushed inside Dean’s fingers tightened around the material of the bedding, his eyes screwed shut as the burn increased – but he could feel that edge of sheer pleasure looming close and he knew it was going to be incredible once he had adjusted. Castiel bottomed out and stayed still inside Dean while he waited so Dean could get his barring’s, his breathing was laboured and it was obvious this was taking up every last bit of his restraint.

When Dean was sure he was ready he opened his eyes and focused on the wide, blue, ones that were gazing back at him – he grasped Castiel’s bicep, “You can move, Cas.”

With a nod Castiel pulled out a few inches before pushing back in – the pleasure that zapped along Dean’s skin had him arching his back, his eyes rolled back into his head and his mouth hung open in a silent scream. Castiel repeated the motion, groaning as he pushed all the way back in, “Dean.” He was shaking and Dean hooked his ankles behind Castiel’s back while he wrapped his arms around his neck.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Dean whispered, “I’ve got you.”

Castiel’s eyes filled with that same look that Dean didn’t dare name as he pulled out further before pushing in, his arms looping around Dean’s shoulders so that his hands could splay out over the ball of his shoulders, “You’re amazing.”

Dean threaded his fingers amongst the dark hair at the nape of Castiel’s neck, “Harder, Cas.”

This time Castiel pulled almost entirely free of Dean’s hole before pounding back in – forcing Dean down into the mattress with the force of his thrust and causing Dean to cry out, “Oh, fuck, Cas.”

Again and again Castiel drove into Dean, causing the headboard to slam against the wall – Dean tilted his head to the side, his toes curling and every nerve inside him singing out in joy as Castiel’s cock rubbed against his prostate with a pleasurable pressure. While Castiel fucked into him he whispered sweet nothings into Dean’s ear and nibbled at the lobe – his breaths coming out in little gasps as he, too, enjoyed the sheer magnitude of their combined pleasure.  
It wasn’t long before Dean was cuming again, untouched, between them – painting their stomachs white with his release. Castiel gasped, going rigid as his own climax coursed through his body and Dean held him as close as he possibly could while he shuddered through it, “I love-“ That was all Dean heard before he lost the semblance of consciousness he’d been desperately clinging to as he rode on his high.

***

After Dean returned to consciousness he found himself wrapped up in Castiel’s arms, he looked down at himself and noted that Castiel had cleaned them both after their amazing sex. His mind conjured up the last thing he’d heard before he’d blacked out and he felt an icy fist close around his heart…it had sounded like Castiel had said he loved him, although really all Dean had heard was ‘I love’ and then nothing more. It was insane to think that the man that was holding him against him, who had only known him for a number of hours, could ‘love’ Dean. He didn’t want that, he really didn’t want that – because whenever love and Dean Winchester were involved someone ended up hurt…they ended up dead. He tried to choke down the taste of ash that always followed this train of thought but he felt as though he was being smothered.

“Dean?” The concern was dripping from that one word, “Tell me what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” That’s it, push him away Winchester, like you always do! “Nothing is wrong.”

Castiel stared at the side of Dean’s face while he resolutely refused to meet the piercing gaze of those blue eyes, Castiel’s voice was strained when he spoke next, guilty and apprehensive, “Did I hurt you? Did I go too fast?”

Dean huffed and rolled away, sitting up and then standing on legs that were still a little shaky – he kept his back to Castiel, “No, you didn’t hurt me and you didn’t go too fast.”

He heard the bed squeak behind him before he felt a warm hand on his hip, “Tell me what’s wrong, please…”

Dean’s mind was buzzing with anger, anger that was pulsing through him because this happened every time – every damn time! He was so fucked up that he couldn’t ever hear the word ‘love’ without going all kamikaze, without going completely insane. As always the anger that was directed inwards swelled to breaking point and then poured out at the only other person present, “Nothing is fucking wrong! Will you stop asking me that because you’re pissing me off.” He pulled away from Castiel and bent to retrieve his clothing.

Castiel was determined to get the truth it seemed, he stood too and pulled on his own clothes as he carried on speaking – his words measured and careful as though he was doing his best to contain his own anger, “That’s bullshit, you were fine before we had sex, you were fine whilst we were having sex…it’s only now that you’re flipping out and I can’t see why. We just shared something special and beautiful, I enjoyed it and I know you did too so why are you fighting it? Are you worried because you don’t understand your sexuality?”

Dean felt the flare of anger burst inside of him once again, “Oh fuck off, stop trying to shrink me. I know what I am and I know who I like to fuck, I accepted that side of myself years ago. Just leave it alone, would you.”

“No, I won’t leave it alone,” Castiel’s voice grew louder, “I’m not letting you act like this, I don’t know what it is but we’re going to talk about it and after if you still don’t want me around I’ll leave…I’ll leave and you won’t have to see me again.”

Dean rounded on Castiel with his hands balled into fists by his sides, “You’re not letting me, huh? What makes you think you can stop me? What makes you think you have that right? I don’t need your help, I don’t need you to save me or fix me or whatever the fuck you think is going to happen here.”

Castiel took a step closer, shaking his head, “I never said I wanted to save you or fix you, Dean,” He sucked in a long breath before running his hand through his already wild hair, “I just don’t want this to be how we end this…this whatever it is.”

“This,” Dean gestured between himself and Castiel, “Never existed.” 

It was as though he’d slapped Castiel, he watched as his face crumbled and he staggered away from Dean – he watched as the man who’d worshipped him and made him feel so special closed down and became cold and distant, “Is that what you truly believe?” Castiel’s voice was broken and small.

No! Dean pushed the voice that was screaming for him to stop down. He needed to protect himself and his heart, “Of course I believe that, because it’s the truth,” Dean sneered, his chest aching with every word he said, “You’re just the guy that delivered my groceries and we passed the time by fucking. No big deal, we don’t even know each other.”

Castiel’s face was expressionless as he nodded slowly, “I think it’s best if I go now then, I’ll be sure to have someone else deliver your groceries should you need the service again, Mr. Winchester.”

With that Castiel raced down the stairs – Dean’s mind registered that the door had been packed tight with snow but after a few clunking sounds the front door slammed shut and the cottage was silent again, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts.  
He’d been an asshole to treat Castiel like that after all they’d shared but it was better if Castiel thought Dean was an asshole instead of getting close to him like Lisa had and then finding out that Dean was defective – that Dean couldn’t love. It should never have gotten this far, he should have known better than to take that chance again but he’d deluded himself into thinking that this time would be different – that when the love came he would be able to let go and feel it too. He didn’t think Castiel would say it so soon, whether it was true or not, he didn’t think they’d honestly get that far.  
Dean swore as he took the stairs two at a time, racing over to the front door where a fresh mound of snow was slowly melting into a puddle – he swung the door wide open and stepped into the freezing air to look out down the vacant road both ways before walking all the way down the garden path to the gate. He couldn’t see that God awful mustard coloured hat nor the ridiculous trench coat, all he could see for miles was the blinding white of snow. He truly hated himself in that moment.

***

After the terrible mess Dean had made he could no longer concentrate on his work nor on anything at all, he tried to steer his thoughts away from dark hair and blue eyes but wherever he looked he found things that reminded him of Castiel. When he forced himself to make himself something to eat he found himself unable to stop replaying the image of Castiel and his nimble fingers placing the groceries on shelves in the pantry with as much care as he’d later used on Dean’s skin, he gave up trying to find something to make for dinner after that. When he resigned himself to trying to read he found himself unable to focus on the words because the lead character reminded him painfully of the man he’d essentially kicked out of his home. When he finally gave in and decided to sleep it off he discovered that no matter what he did he couldn’t get the smell of Castiel out of the bedroom – it clung to the bedding even after he changed it and plagued him like a ghost.  
The next three days passed with Dean unable to keep Castiel out of his mind and there wasn’t a single moment when he was able to concentrate on doing what he needed to do – the book he had been writing (his work) was still exactly where he left it when Castiel had arrived, the pantry lay untouched because Dean couldn’t bring himself to eat when it so painfully reminded him of Castiel. He was going to end up dying of starvation anyway at this point despite paying for the food that he so desperately needed, but a part of him told him he deserved that – that he deserved to feel like shit for what he’d done. That he didn’t deserve to live because he was broken and no matter what he did he would never be ‘normal’, he would never be able to function like everyone else did. A thousand times Dean debated walking into the main village to ask around about Castiel or just to get absolutely hammered so he didn’t have to think about much of anything anymore but he knew that was a terrible idea and truly drowning his sorrows had never helped him before.

By the fourth day Dean was coming unhinged and he found himself staring at his phone in silence until finally he plucked up the courage and phoned his brother to see if he could help in some way – Sam answered on the third ring, “Hey, Dean. Did you sort the food situation out?”

Dean’s stomach clenched, “I guess you could say that.”

“What’s wrong? You sound awful, have you been crying?” His brother always had been quick on the uptake.

“No, I haven’t been crying,” He debated on the best way to come clean about what was making him feel this bad but he couldn’t work out how to start, “Something happened.”

Sam was silent for a few moments, “What kind of something?”

“A guy something.” Dean replied, his voice weak.

“You met someone?” Sam sounded surprised.

Dean ran his fingers through his unwashed hair, “The guy that delivered the groceries…”

He could hear a chair being pulled out through the phone, “Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?”

“No, I hurt him.” 

Again there was a moment of silence, though this one seemed to stretch longer, “What do you mean you hurt him?”

Dean sighed, “We…we had fun and then I freaked out and we argued and then I said some shit and he-“ Dean choked on his words, the scene replaying in his mind.

“He left.” Sam finished for him.

“Yeah, Sammy.” His voice broke as he fought the tears that were pricking his eyes. He felt more tired now than he had ever before.

“So get him back then, if it’s making you feel this bad give the agency or whatever a call and get him to come back.”

“It’s not that simple Sammy, he told me he’d make sure I didn’t have to see him again.” And here were the tears, rolling down his cheeks and making him feel even worse. He was crying on the phone to his little brother about a guy.

“What’s his name?” Sam was typing furiously on a keyboard.

“Castiel.”

“Do you know his last name?” 

Dean shook his head, “No, I just know his Mom named him after the angel of Thursday.”

Sam made a noise in the back of his throat that was half interest and half surprise, “Did she name his brother Lucifer or something.” Of course that was meant to be a joke but Dean found no humour in it.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” Dean hadn’t even asked how many brothers Castiel had, he knew about Gabriel but that had been the extent of their conversation on brothers. 

“I’ve found him, he’s not far from where you are,” Sam paused and clicked his mouse, “Do you want his number?”

“Please.” Was all Dean could manage, it sounded pathetic but Sam reeled off the number without commenting on how Dean sounded.

After Dean had hung up on his brother he typed in the number he’d been given for Castiel and sat staring at it while he tried to think of something, anything, he could say to make Castiel come back. He went over every option mentally, pleading, lying, honesty it all fell short because he couldn’t envision anything that would make Castiel want him after what had happened. After how he had behaved. An hour passed slowly before Dean finally plucked up the courage to dial Castiel’s number and even then he wasn’t entirely sure this was the best choice, what if Castiel told him to fuck off – hell, Castiel should tell him to fuck off.

“Hello.” Dean’s heart jumped inside his chest, that one little word said in that familiar voice was enough to make him sure that he’d made the right decision by calling.

“Hello?” Castiel repeated.

“Cas?” His voice came out quieter than it would have normally.

***

“Cas?” 

Castiel’s blood turned to ice in his veins, he almost dropped the mug he had been washing up and had to take a second to compose himself before he could find his voice again, “Why are you calling me?”

His heart was thumping so loudly he could hardly hear Dean’s reply, “I was an asshole, I need to talk to you…to apologise.”

The hair on the back of his neck prickled uncomfortably as his mind supplied an alternative meaning to those words ‘I want you to fuck me so I can turn around and kick you out again’, that sounded more accurate. When Castiel spoke again his tone was dripping with venom, “You said all you had to say when you kicked me out, I’m busy so don’t call again.”

“Wait Ca-“

Castiel held his phone tight enough to turn his knuckles white after he had hung up – his world was crumbling and the silence of his kitchen seemed far too loud for him to cope with. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Dean and now the man was intent on calling him and trying to use him again, no way was Castiel going to let that happen!  
When his phone rang again he almost jumped out of his skin but a glimpse at the caller I.D. told him it was Gabriel so after taking a few seconds to compose himself he answered, “Hello, Gabe.”

“Hello yourself little brother, you were meant to call me last night did you forget?” There was the sound of rustling wrappers, obviously Gabriel’s sweet tooth was still going strong.

“Sorry…” Castiel had never been great at hiding how he felt from his brother and though his tone would have been unreadable if he’d been speaking to anyone else he couldn’t fool his exceptionally annoying brother.

“Okay, tell me all about him.” A chair creaked as Gabriel obviously got comfortable.

Castiel rubbed his free hand down his face, “There’s nothing to tell.”

Gabriel made a noise around a mouthful of whatever sweet he was devouring before swallowing loudly, “Well, there’s obviously something wrong or you wouldn’t have your panties in a twist. Did he hurt you? Because if he so much as laid a finger on you I’ll-“

“Gabe, for once in your life can you just stop talking.” Castiel wasn’t usually so short with his brother but honestly he was running on barely four hours of sleep and had worked a full shift at the pub before coming home to wash up.

“I could stop talking, but then you’d be left to stew and that’s never healthy,” Gabriel licked at something – hopefully a lolli-pop, “Now either you tell me or I’m going to tell Mother dearest exactly where you ran off to, you wouldn’t want that Cassie. She still thinks she can turn you straight with Jesus camp or some bullshit.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, Gabriel knew that the one thing to guarantee he got his own way was to use Mother as a threat. Really it was ridiculous how she had been unable to except Castiel when he came out and disowned him as a result and yet Gabriel was free to be polyamorous with as many women as he wanted, “If you call Mother I’ll call the police and report your little illegal ‘garden’.”

“Woah now Cassie, that’s just low. You know I need a joint or two and the doctors refuse to prescribe it to me,” Gabriel chuckled, “Come on, tell me what happened so I can get the dick killed.”

With a sigh Castiel slumped on to his threadbare couch, “I had a new client ask for some groceries to be delivered because he was unable to get out in the snow, he was beautiful and honestly he was checking me out and it’s been a while since-“

“Since you sheathed your sword in something warm.” Gabriel laughed again and promptly started choking on whatever he had been eating.

Castiel waited for his brother to stop spluttering, “I wouldn’t say it quite like that but yes,” He closed his eyes trying to rid himself of the green eyes and freckles that had been haunting him, “We ended up kissing, one thing led to another and we had sex. Like seriously some of the best sex I’ve ever had, I think I actually passed out for a little while and I know for a fact he did.”

“Yeah, too much info there but if you had such life altering sex why are you so bummed out?”

Castiel spoke quickly, acting as though he was ripping off a band-aid, “Because right after, while we were still laying in his bed, he freaked out,” The scene played out perfectly in Castiel’s mind and he had to fight against the nausea that was threatening to overwhelm him, “He freaked out big time, started shouting and said some really fucked up shit. He…I left which wasn’t easy because I had to dig my way out through the snow that was blocking the front door.”

“You made the mistake of fucking a straight guy again?”

“He wasn’t…isn’t straight, Gabe. I thought that at first too and he said that wasn’t the problem, basically told me I was just a piece of ass to him and now that he was done he was happy to watch me walk out,” His heart pinched painfully behind his ribs, “I don’t know what I did wrong, I mean sure we weren’t gonna elope after a couple hours of sex but I thought we’d at least hang out…maybe make the sex a regular thing.”

Gabriel snorted, “Did you just say ‘the sex’, dear brother,” He grew serious again, “I don’t think you did anything wrong, it sounds like you were on different pages is all…or different books. He obviously didn’t want a regular hook up and behaved like an asshole because you did want that. Now, what’s his name and address so I can make sure they never find the body.”

“If he didn’t want a regular thing why did he just call me up under the pretence of apologising when really he just wanted another ‘booty call’?” 

Gabriel gasped, “Oh, now he’s definitely dead,” Then he made a surprised little sound, “Although honestly I don’t think I’ve ever called a one night stand up to apologise for being a dick to them, I never do that in fact. Maybe he was telling the truth…doesn’t stop him being an ass though so I’d just ignore him or,” He laughed loudly, “Fuck someone else right in front of him somehow. Oh, that would be perfect! You could set up a get together at your tiny bungalow and invite him and then just a load of really hot, gay, guys. Holy shit then you could totally go to town on one or all of them while he watches and tries not to cry.”

“That is disgusting, Gabe,” Castiel pulled a face, “You know that kind of thing only happens in porn don’t you?”

“Then my life must be a porno little brother.”

***

After Castiel hung up the phone he couldn’t pry his thoughts away from Dean no matter how badly he tried, what if Gabe was right – what if Dean had honestly been phoning to apologise and Castiel had shot him down straight away without a second thought. What if the entire situation had nothing to do with Castiel and more to do with how Dean had been feeling, it wasn’t like they’d truly explored each other’s feelings or talked in depth about their pasts before they had sex…what if Dean was already in a relationship and that was why he had a melt down?

There were far too many what ifs for Castiel’s liking, he despised not being able to find a reason and solution to this problem and it was slowly driving him insane – he needed to get away but he couldn’t just turn tail and run each time his life got a little too complicated for his liking, he had to stop behaving like the same boy stuck in the closet that he used to be and start acting like the confident and openly gay man he’d become. He had to go and see Dean. He had to hear him out and get the answers he needed.  
That was all fair and well but before that could happen Castiel wanted to make sure he looked his damn best, childish as it might be he wanted Dean to believe he hadn’t fallen into despair after he’d left the cottage. He didn’t want Dean to see the stains on his shirt, the overgrowth of stubble on his chin or the puffiness of his eyes – he wanted him to see how unaffected he’d been by Dean’s dismissal even if that was a lie.

Before he had much of a chance to do anything aside from taking a quick shower and shaving the growth of stubble that was moments away from becoming a beard there was a knock on the door – causing him to jump and drop his towel. He plucked it back up and wrapped it around his waist before heading the short distance from the bathroom to the door. He had expected his neighbour, probably bringing him another dish of leftovers for helping her to ‘fix’ her computer (though Castiel didn’t define fixing a computer as simply reconnecting it to her internet.) What he hadn’t been expecting was a familiar pair of green eyes rimmed red and the ever present array of freckles that were darker somehow due to the contrast between them and the pink tinge from the chill that lingered still in the air.

Dean Winchester looked terrible, it seemed he had been spending every moment crying and the bags under his eyes informed Castiel that he wasn’t the only one that had been missing sleep – in fact it looked as though Dean had somehow managed even less sleep than he had. He stood there with his eyes pinned under Dean’s gaze and struggled to remember to breathe properly.

When he did regain some semblance of sanity he regained his voice along with it, “How did you know where to find me?”

For a moment Dean seemed to be rendered speechless too, taking a deep breath he answered in a choked sounding tone, “My brother Sammy found your address, Cas please let me explain-“

He seemed so broken and desperate, “Dean, you can’t just turn up here.”

Dean’s mouth popped open into a perfect ‘o’ as though he’d just thought of something, he lowered his voice looking embarrassed and slightly jealous, “Are you not alone?”

A lesser man than Castiel probably would have told Dean that he wasn’t alone, that he’d just had a shower after having much better sex than Dean had been able to supply but Castiel was not that man, “No, I am alone. It’s just unexpected, I was going to come to you but,” He stopped himself, he’d been so close to saying ‘I just needed to clean myself up because I looked like crap after spending hours upon hours torturing myself’ but luckily he’d rethought that, “But I needed to do some stuff before I came.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide, “You were going to come and see me?”

“That doesn’t mean I forgive you, it just means I was ready to hear you out.” Castiel realised this was a very strange conversation to be having on his doorstep so he stepped aside and gestured for Dean to come in.

His bungalow was in disarray, papers everywhere, discarded outfits thrown on the floor and over the couch and his laptop laying haphazardly on the edge of the kitchen counter but Dean seemed oblivious to all of this as he stepped inside. Castiel closed the door behind him and stood against it, desperate to compose himself and still finding it difficult to believe that this was truly happening. Dean waited for Castiel to speak again and when he didn’t he took the chance he’d obviously been waiting for, “Look Cas, I’m fucked up and there’s no excuse for how I behaved. I’m not good with the whole ‘love’ thing and when you said it during…during our time together it made me feel really scared and-“

“Hold on, what do you mean when I said it?” Castiel wracked his brain trying to remember if he had indeed told Dean he loved him, which honestly was insane.

“You said ‘I love…’ just before I blacked out and I know that maybe for you it’s different-“

“I said I love the sounds you make, Dean. I didn’t say I love you.” Castiel felt like slapping himself but that didn’t mean he hadn’t realised there was still an issue here, if Dean was that freaked out by love they had a bigger fish to fry.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean seemed almost hysterical now, smiling like a mad man, “I can’t believe I thought you said that, I feel so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, you were caught up in the moment and you panicked,” Castiel became very aware that he only had a towel to cover himself, “Let me put some clothes on and then we can talk properly.”

Dean seemed to notice Castiel’s attire now, or lack thereof. He smirked and his gaze trailed languidly down Castiel’s torso and down to the trail of hair that led beneath the top of the towel – he stood and took a few determined steps towards Castiel, reaching out his hand though not quite touching yet. Castiel’s heart was already beating erratically but now it felt as though it was trying to hammer its way out of his chest, he licked his lips subconsciously and then remembered the situation they needed to work through, “Dean…”

“Cas.” Dean whispered back, taking another step and finally closing the distance. His hand caressed the sensitive skin of Castiel’s stomach.

“Dean, no. We have to talk about things to sort them out, I’m not…” Dean was looking at him with a vulnerability he’d never seen in anyone else, “I’m not going to do anything until we’ve spoken about all of this properly.”

Taking a step back Dean nodded, “Okay, Cas. But you’re going to have to get dressed quickly or I might end up pouncing on you.”

Tempting as that was Castiel knew he couldn’t let Dean get distracted, he could sense that he was only seeing the tip of the ice berg and that this, whatever this was, was something Dean hadn’t spoken about in a long time – if ever. So Castiel made an effort to pick up all the clothing he’d left scattered around his small bungalow before heading into his bedroom where he abandoned any effort to make himself look ‘sexy’ and opted for a simple pair of old sweats and a baggy band shirt.

When he came back into the living area Dean was sat on the couch, staring at his blunt nails and frowning. Before Castiel could even sit down Dean started to speak, “I’m messed up and I know that, before I moved here I was in a relationship with a really nice girl but she-“

“She told you she loved you?”

“Yeah, I knew she did but I couldn’t let myself feel the same way because…because of what happened, what always happens when people ‘love’ me.” Dean’s hands were balled into fists atop his thighs, Castiel reached over and took one of them in his own – threading his fingers through Dean’s.

“What happened?” Without thinking, Castiel slid closer to Dean on the couch.

A single tear slid down Dean’s cheek and he wiped it away with his free hand, the movement jerky seeing as his hands were now shaking, “I was four, we lived in Lawrence and Sammy was just a baby. I was so happy when he was born, I finally had the chance to be an older brother and Mom always made us feel so special and loved. Dad did too but I guess I was a real Mumma’s boy,” He sucked in a shuddering breath and Castiel tightened his grip on Dean’s hand, “She was beautiful, long hair that was golden and a smile that just seemed to make all your troubles go away. Sammy was six months old when the nursery caught fire, Dad was asleep because he’d had some long hours at the garage where he worked and Mom had gotten up to feed Sammy. I was still…I was still asleep so I didn’t know what was going on until I heard my Dad shouting and screaming Mom’s name,” Dean’s eyes were unfocused as though he was seeing everything replaying, “I came running out of my room down the hall in my jammies and Dad had Sammy, he passed him to me and screamed ‘Take Sammy, take Sammy and run!’ and I did. I ran out of the house and into the street where the neighbours were starting to crowd,” Castiel thought he knew where this was going but didn’t dare interrupt, “The fire men finally came and they had to pull my Dad out of the house, he didn’t want to leave his wife. They found her when the flames died down a bit, she was dead.”

“I’m so sorry, Dean.” Castiel felt terrible, to live through losing a parent – especially when you were so young – was awful.

Dean just continued on as though he hadn’t heard Castiel, “Dad wasn’t the same after that, the insurance company said it was an electrical fault but Dad started having hallucinations and the drink didn’t help. He was angry all the time, kept telling me and Sammy that a demon had killed our Mom. Kept saying we needed to find the demon and kill it. We ended up growing up on the road for the most part, sleeping in my Dad’s Impala or in cheap motels, when I got a little older Dad started leaving us in the motels alone for days on end – longest he left us was a solid month. I had to beg and steal because the money Dad would leave would barely last a week and that was if I went without food,” Dean grimaced, “I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of just to survive and I regret all of it.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right? None of it, Dean. You shouldn’t have had to grow up like that.” Castiel shook his head, imagining how hard it must have been for Dean.

“I did have to do it though, Sammy needed me and I was meant to look after him so I did,” Dean glanced at Castiel, his eyes bloodshot and showing the fresh tears that were threatening to spill, “Dad ended up getting into a real bad fight when I was fifteen, he lost and got beaten bad enough to land him in ICU, he never woke up from the coma he was in. I knew social would try to separate me and Sammy so I tried to draw as little attention to us as possible, I got Dad’s car from where he’d parked it outside a bar and hauled ass out of town. It was even harder without the bit of money Dad usually left and Sammy had to go to school too because I wanted him to have a chance at a future that I could never have,” Dean sighed, loud and long, “One of Dad’s friends, Bobby, had put out a search for us with a police woman he knew called Jo. They found us eventually in a beat up old house that was just about falling down, I’d been scraping together any money I could find but even so we hadn’t been able to stay in a motel for weeks – the weather had turned and we couldn’t sleep in the Impala because it was so goddamn cold. I was half starved when Bobby came, of course Sammy was okay but I had to be checked over in hospital and had a feeding tube in me for a while because of how malnourished I was. Bobby adopted us with his wife, Ellen.”

Castiel pulled Dean closer, wrapping him up in his arms, “Bobby and Ellen took care of you after that?”

“Mmhmm, trouble was I thought it was all gonna be so much better until my first girlfriend, Cassie, we were in pretty deep with each other. One night we’re at her folks house and she tells me she loves me – I loved her too, or I guess I thought I did when I was a teenager. Next day she’s not in school so I go round to hers after and find out from her Mom that she’d gone missing. I was real worried, everyone was – Cassie was popular, lovely, kind and smart. She was the kind of person that was going places. She was found two weeks later, face down in a ditch off the side of the road – she’d been run over by something big, the police said they thought it had been a truck that had hit her.”

Castiel shook his head, shocked, “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah, it is. It took me a while to move on from that but when I did it was with my first boyfriend, he was a freshman in college and I was just finishing up at highschool – he was honestly great and always made sure people knew we were dating even if he got shit for being gay. We spent a lot of time together because he was at a local college, honestly I think I spent more time with Benny than I did anywhere else. I slept at his dorm one night and after we,” Dean coughed, wiping away more tears from his eyes, “After we ‘made love’ we cuddled and Benny told me he loved me and it was perfect, I thought it was going to last forever.”

“What happened?” Castiel asked quietly.

“Two weeks later Benny was out at a bar when a group of red necks who knew he was gay thought they’d have some fun, they asked Benny if he wanted to go to a party and bring his boyfriend. I couldn’t go though because Bobby was taking me and Sammy out camping so we had to be up at the crack of dawn for the trek. Bobby went anyway, he loved parties, he loved people, he was a gentle giant. Turns out it wasn’t a party though, they grabbed him as soon as he stepped foot in the back yard, tied him up and tortured him. I didn’t know none of this until they found his body in the place, police had been tipped off about a lead for loads of local disappearances and when they got there the red necks had fled but they’d left behind a whole yard of trucks and cars that belonged to a ton of missing people – one of ‘em was Benny’s pick up,” The tears fell from Dean’s eyes faster now, “Inside they said it was like a museum of horror, dishes made from skulls, lamps made from human skin, wind chimes made from finger and toe bones – it was like something straight from a horror movie. They searched the place and found Benny hanging from hooks in the basement next to two empty cages where they’d obviously been keeping people. Bobby’s police friend, Jo, saw it all first hand and I heard her telling Bobby all about it – saying how the coroner couldn’t count the amount of bones they’d broken in Benny’s body.”

“God, I’m so sorry. Dean, that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” Castiel rubbed his hand up and down Dean’s back, fighting against his own tears.

But Dean apparently wasn’t finished, “I was torn up after that happened, didn’t dare get close to anyone for ages because I was in so much pain. First Mom, then Cassie and now Benny – I thought my life couldn’t possibly get any worse. I convinced Bobby to let me work at his garage on the cars and threw myself into it to take my mind off things but it didn’t work as well as I’d hoped and I ended up turning to different methods – I drank whatever I could get my hands on and woke up every morning surrounded by bottles. I was goin’ the same way as my old man and I think that really scared Bobby – he sent me away to a home for boys who were troubled. Sonny’s really helped me in a lot of ways, I began to accept my past little by little and quit drinking for the most part. I started learning guitar and found out I was real good at it, I’d sit for hours playing for the other boys and singing songs they wrote. For the first time in a long time I felt almost happy, but of course that didn’t last,” Dean bit his lip, “One of the boys had a real problem with fire and he was flicking matches late at night when I guess one caught and the whole place went up in smoke – luckily no one died but it brought all the stuff with my Mom right back and after that I begged Bobby to bring me home, I was so scared,” He let out a bitter laugh, “Not as scared as I should have been though because it didn’t stop me getting close to another girl named Tessa. It wasn’t even a month before she told me she loved me and she meant it. I didn’t feel the same about her but I thought that maybe, one day, I would so we carried on dating. We were six months in when Christmas rolled around, I brought her a necklace and I was gonna give it to her on Christmas day but before I could she got into a car accident. She was driving along the back roads to Bobby’s and she hit a nasty patch of ice, spun out and her car pitched nose first into the lake which was frozen over. She got stuck in the car and that’s how they found her – headlights still on, still buckled in, just submerged in the water looking like she was taking a nap. Do you know what hurt most?”

Castiel shook his head, “No.”

“Every damn time someone told me they loved me it was like a death sentence for them. First Mom, she told me she loved me and kissed me on the forehead every night before bed. Then Cassie telling me she loved me in her folk’s house. Benny in his dorm and finally Tessa – all of them died and not just normal deaths, no, they died horribly and hurting more than any person should. I’m cursed, anyone that loves me dies and Lisa was the only lucky one as far as I know,” Dean laughed bitterly, “Who knows maybe she’s dead now too.”

“You’re not cursed, Dean! Bad things happen and you’ve had more bad than good, more bad than anyone I’ve ever known, but you deserved to be loved and you need to let people love you. Bad things won’t happen to everyone that loves you.” Castiel didn’t know if Dean believed him but he was desperate to make him understand that he wasn’t to blame for what had happened in his past and that he wasn’t ‘cursed’ just because people had died. Just because they’d died after they’d told him they loved him.

Dean shuddered and drew in a hissing breath, his shoulders slumped and Castiel slid his arm around his shoulders and pulled him in until his head was resting in the crook of his neck. For a while they just sat like that – huddled together on Castiel’s old couch, neither one saying a word. The sun slowly dipped lower and lower In the sky and just when it was becoming too dark to see in the little room Dean broke the silence, “Thanks.”

“Thanks for what?” Castiel asked, looking down at Dean as best he could.

Dean pulled away a little and gazed up at him, “Thanks for listening and for understanding,” He smiled weakly, “I’ve never really told anyone all that, not even Sammy. I guess I needed to.”

Castiel nodded and pressed his lips to Dean’s forehead, “You don’t need to thank me, I’m glad you told me everything because I would have hated to have thought you’d just closed down the other night because of something I did or because you didn’t want me.”

“Is that what you thought?” 

“Yes, I can be quite insecure and I guess I kind of just thought that someone like you wouldn’t want someone like me for more than one night after what you said. Now I know the whole story behind it.” Castiel stroked his hand across Dean’s shoulders.

Dean stared at him, “What do you mean someone like you?”

Castiel chuckled, “I mean you’re really good looking, supermodel worthy even and I’m just this shabby looking man on the bad side of twenty.”

“Hey! Don’t you ever doubt that you’re good looking. When I first saw you I was literally dumbstruck, there I was in my stupid little rented cottage trying to work through my latest novel with my publisher breathing down my neck and there you were,” He smiled, widely, “A real life angel delivering my groceries. I thought I was dreaming.”

Castiel shook his head, “I thought I was the luckiest man alive, delivering food to this gorgeous man…and then when you showed an interest in me I couldn’t believe what was happening – Castiel Novak gaining the affections of an Adonis.”

Dean breathed out a shaky laugh before he brought his face right next to Castiel’s, his lashes casting spidery shadows down his cheeks in the low light, “So, you wouldn’t be opposed to having another go at this?”

“No, I wouldn’t be opposed.” Castiel chuckled and closed the distance between them, capturing Dean’s mouth with his own in a searing kiss that radiated across every inch of his skin.

It wouldn’t be perfect, nothing ever was but they could work at it and try. This could be something and when Castiel did finally tell Dean he loved him (if that day ever even came) he would mean it and when Dean returned it Castiel hoped it would be without fear of what was to come and without the ghosts of all Dean had lost haunting him and influencing who he was. They could have something beautiful, their own little slice of heaven.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration for this fic came when my Mother woke me up early one morning to show me the snow that had fallen overnight.  
> I live in an isolated village (IT DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A SHOP OR A POST OFFICE!) and so I got to thinking about how I could possibly get food and other things if we were snowed in ... then I kind of thought about how peculiar it would be if Dean was in that situation and Castiel was there to rescue him in some manner.  
> Ta-Da this fic was born!
> 
> It's terrible so I hope you don't hunt me down or anything :'D
> 
> Merry Christmas (Happy holidays) to all of you as well, I hope you all have a brilliant time.  
> Also BAH HUMBUG! Because I despise Christmas, I'd much rather have a second Halloween.


End file.
